Chapter Text
When Remus returned to his office after a full day of lessons, Reg was already waiting. As was Snape.
Sighing, Remus nodded to Snape, rubbing his temples as he crossed to his desk where a steaming goblet already sat.
“Thank you, Severus,” Remus said.
Without a response Snape left, cloak billowing behind him.
“Hey Crookshanks,” Remus said tiredly, scratching between Reg’s ears and eyeing the cup with trepidation.
Resigning himself, Remus grabbed the goblet and downed it, coughing as his breathing worsened.
Reg mrowed, rolling the little red vial he had brought along across the desk. The vial bumped against Remus’ hand and stopped, making the man look up. Reg mrowed again, pawing at the vial until Remus looked at him.
“You want me to take this?” he wheezed, and Reg blinked slowly in agreement.
Remus frowned at the vial, suspicious, but after another bout of hacking coughs he brought it to his lips and downed it. Remus’ breathing eased almost instantaneously and Reg let out a breath of relief, bonking his head against Remus’ hand comfortingly.
“How did you-” Remus asked before cutting himself off, shaking his head. “That'd be me then,” he chuckled, “talking to a cat as if it can respond.”
Regulus was offended. He could respond, he just chose not to. Because if anyone was going to figure him out, it would be the Marauders’ singular brain cell, and Reg wasn’t quite ready for that conversation yet.
“Well,” Remus said, “thank you anyways.”
Reg stretched himself out, leaning against Remus in acknowledgement.
Halloween fell on the day before the full moon this year, a fact which Regulus found particularly cruel.
He was curled up on Remus’ desk, napping in a sunbeam, when he heard footsteps in the hall outside. He glanced up just in time to see Harry pass by, looking slightly dejected. Behind him, Remus got up from his desk, wincing, and crossed to the doorway.
“Harry?” he called. “What are you doing? Where are Ron and Hermione?”
“Hogsmeade,” Harry said, voice a bit strained.
Remus nodded. “I see,” he paused. “Why don’t you come in for tea? I’ve just started a pot.”
“Sure,” Harry shrugged, following as Remus turned back into his office.
When Harry stepped inside the office his eyes fell on Reg, looking startled. “You know Crookshanks?” he asked.
Remus’ eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I knew his last owner.”
“Really?” Harry asked, curious. “Who?”
“A singularly talented witch and an even better friend.”
Harry frowned slightly. “What happened to her?”
Remus’ gaze dropped. “The war.”
“Oh,” Harry said, “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Remus glanced up, eyes gleaming again. “Thank you, Harry. Now, tea?”
Harry nodded awkwardly and Remus floated the kettle over to his desk, brushing off a dusty tin.
“I’ve only got teabags, I’m afraid,” Remus teased in the way he used to do to Lily, “but I daresay you’ve had enough of tea leaves?”
“How did you know about that?” Harry asked, glancing up as Remus poured tea into two mugs.
“McGonagall told me,” Remus grinned, passing Harry an old mug Regulus remembered from Hogwarts. “You’re not worried, are you?”
“No,” Harry shook his head, pausing like he was considering saying more.
“Anything worrying you, Harry?” Remus asked gently.
“No,” Harry said, taking a sip of tea. “Yes. You know that day we fought the Boggart?”
Remus hid a smile behind his cup. “Hardly forgettable, when one works with Severus Snape.”
“Why didn’t you let me fight it?” Harry asked.
Remus’ eyebrows shot up and he leaned forward. “I would have thought that was obvious, Harry.”
Harry started, as if that wasn’t the answer he had been expecting. “Why?”
Remus frowned. “I’d assumed if the Boggart faced you, it would assume the shape of Lord Voldemort.”
Regulus winced so hard he would’ve fallen off Remus’ desk had the man not reached out and steadied him. That was the first time he’d heard the name in twelve years, he realized.
“Clearly I was wrong,” Remus said, glancing in concern at Regulus. “But I didn’t think it would be a good idea for Lord Voldemort to materialize in the staffroom. I imagined that people would panic.”
“I didn’t think of Voldemort,” Harry said. “I – I remembered those Dementors.”
“I see,” Remus said, studying Harry like he was a particularly interesting puzzle. “Well… I’m impressed.” He smiled slightly at the look of surprise on Harry’s face. “That suggests that what you fear most of all is fear itself. Very good, Harry.”
Harry looked like he didn’t know what to say, awkwardly taking another sip of tea.
“So you’ve been thinking that I didn’t believe you capable of fighting the Boggart?” Remus guessed.
“Well… yeah,” Harry said, smiling sheepishly. “Professor Lupin, you know the Dementors ”
A knock on the door cut Harry off, and Reg popped up, glaring at the door. Unsurprisingly, when the door opened it was Snape, another goblet of Wolfsbane potion in his hand. He paused at the sight of Harry, eyes narrowing in dislike.
“Severus,” Remus said, smiling. Reg was impressed. It almost seemed genuine this time, though Harry didn’t seem to notice anything. “Could you leave it here on the desk for me?”
Snape set the goblet down a little harder than necessary, causing drips to splash over the rim and onto Reg. Reg hissed and jumped down, haughtily crossing to fetch Remus another vial.
“I was just showing my Grindylow,” Lupin said, despite the fact that it had yet to come up in conversation.
“Fascinating,” Snape drawled without looking at it. “You should drink that directly, Lupin.”
“Yes,” Remus nodded. “Yes, I will.”
“I made an entire cauldronful,” Snape continued. “If you need more.”
“I’ll have some again tomorrow. Thank you, Severus.”
“Not at all,” Snape said sarcastically, backing out of the room as Reg glared, jumping back up on the desk.
Harry looked curiously at the goblet, and Remus smiled.
“Professor Snape has very kindly concocted a potion for me,” he said as Reg dropped another vial into his palm. “I have never been much of a potion-brewer and this one is particularly complex.” He picked up the goblet and sniffed it. “Pity sugar makes it useless,” he added, taking a gulp and coughing.
“Why-?” Harry asked as Remus downed the rest of it, quickly popping the vial open and downing it as well.
“I’ve been feeling a bit off-color,” Remus explained calmly, as if that wasn’t the understatement of the fucking century. “This potion is the only thing that helps. I am very lucky to be working alongside Professor Snape; there aren’t many wizards who are up to making it.”
He was, Regulus wanted to protest, but he was stuck as a fucking cat, so he couldn’t do anything.
“Professor Snape’s very interested in the Dark Arts,” Harry blurted, trying to sound casual.
“Really?” Remus replied, only half listening. Reg figured he had probably learned how to tune out a Potter complaining about Snape early on. It was a survival skill.
“Some people reckon –” Harry hesitated, then plunged on, “some people reckon he’d do anything to get the Defense Against the Dark Arts job.”
Remus snorted softly. “Harry, that was practically civil, when it comes to me. I promise you, Severus bears me no more ill will than he ever has.”
“Right,” said Harry, putting down his empty teacup.
“Well, Harry,” Remus said, indicating the end of the discussion. “I’d better get back to work. See you at the feast later.”